


Letter For The King Rewrite

by Musical_Fangirl089



Category: The Letter for the King (TV)
Genre: Additional scenes, Basically an exercise in plotting a story and characters arcs, F/M, Fix-It, Jussipo Lives (The Letter for the King), Lavinia is just a good thief, M/M, Tiuri is magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23526862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musical_Fangirl089/pseuds/Musical_Fangirl089
Summary: Tiuri wants nothing more than to make his adoptive father proud, even if he’s terrible at being his son.Arman wants to earn his father’s praise, but nothing seems to work.Foldo wants to do his family name proud and follow tradition by becoming a knight.Diorla wants to prove everyone wrong, that Eviellen blood can be noble.Jussipo wants to write songs about his amazing adventures and make sure his younger brother doesn’t get hurt.Iona wants to rise above her rank as a nobody.Lavinia wants to bring wealth and prosperity to her town.Somehow, their lives are all intertwined through a single letter that needs to go to King Favian or the darkness will destroy their land.
Relationships: Foldo/Jussipo (The Letter for the King), Tiuri/OFC (The Letter for the King)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	1. The Tale of the Novices

“There is a darkness coming. A darkness that will take everything. For thousands of years, Northern kingdoms of Unauwen and Dagonaut have waged war on the South. A land known as Eviellen.”

“I know all this mum,” Tiuri sighed loudly, falling onto the grass. His mother, a beautiful woman with dark skin and even darker hair that was curled down her back. She had a simple dress on as she picked apples in the orchard with her young son, Tiuri, who was no older than fourteen. Tiuri stayed on the ground, lying down spread out like a starfish. “I’ve heard this story too many times to count!”

“It’s your history, Tiuri,” His mother replied with a kind smile. “If you don’t know your past, it’s all the easier to repeat it. And who knows? It may just save your life one day.” Tiuri huffed through his nose, picking himself up and helping his mother pick the freshest and reddest apples. He had dark skin, like his mother and (presumably) his father. His hair was black and curled, cut as short as his mother allowed. His mother glanced down at him, making sure he was paying attention before she continued. “For thousands of years Eviellen has resisted. Until now.” Tiuri felt a sour taste in his mouth as his mother continued, her face turning cold as she recounted their homeland’s fate. “A ruthless conqueror has brought the tribes to their knees. Prince Viridian has been left unchecked, his deeds unsaid-“

“Because they don’t like us,” Tiuri replied bitterly. “We’re less than everyone else. Freaks, abnormal. We don’t belong. Why would they care what happens to us?”

“Their words are only as powerful as you let them be, Tiuri. But there is hope for our home yet. Prophecy-“ Tiuri let out a soft scoff, causing his mother to send him a warning glare. “Prophecy tells of a hero with power great enough to break the conqueror.”

“Well where is this ‘great hero’?” Tiuri asked bitterly. “Where was he when we were ripped from home? Where was he when my father died? Where is he now?” 

The more he talked, the more he snapped, the more the whispers spoke. He couldn’t make it out, and they all talked over each other. It was chaos in his ears, and only his ears, getting louder and louder. 

“I do not know,” She replied gently, putting a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Her calming presence was enough for the voices to go away without anything going wrong. “But I like to believe he is closer than we both know.”

“Master Tiuri!”

Tiuri and his mother looked towards their new home, a lord’s house. The lord, Sir Tiuri the Valiant, took them both in and made them his family. Occasionally Tiuri would despise him for this, for renaming him and almost erasing his past. But on the other hand, it was much better than slavery, which was the only other option. The voice they heard belonged to one of the servants, who was running towards them. 

“Master Tiuri!” The servant said, panting slightly. “You’re late again! Bors is waiting.”

Tiuri looked at his mother, who picked up the basket that was filled with apples, and smiled at him, nodding at him to go. He walked off, his mother calling out ‘good luck’ as he left. 

In the nearby forests, the Brown Knights rode together as they hunted. To some, like Sir Tiuri the Valiant, it was rather boring and meaningless. However, to others, such as Sir Fantumar, it is the only way he’ll get on a horse and use any weapons. 

“These fools make such a racket,” Sir Fantumar sighed as he and Sir Tiuri came to a halt. “We won’t catch a pigeon, let alone a stag.”

“Fantumar, leave it,” Sir Tiuri replied. 

Sir Fantumar was a rather short and plump man with a greying beard and balding head. He had a large nose and pale skin. He also had on the richest leather and fur he could afford -which was rather expensive. His horse was one of the best breeds and his swords were some of the finest. However, he did not acquire these things through his bravery and honour, but through his silver tongue and cut-throat attitude hidden under a thin layer of smiles and titles. 

Sir Tiuri wasn’t much better. He was slimmer, with thin blonde hair and a bit of stubble on his jaw. His clothes were also rather expensive. He, however, earned some of his money through his bravery and some through politics. He wasn’t cut-throat, but his honour meant more to him than most things. 

They followed a different path to the one the rest of their group went down, opting for a quieter hunt. They rode in silence until Fantumar stopped, spotting a stag in front of them. Carefully, he aimed his crossbow and shot the poor animal dead. With a thud, the defenceless creature hit the ground. Sir Tiuri knew what his son would say at such a sight -something how they have feelings too and how it was merciless to kill them. His mother would be on his side too, growing up with nature surrounding her and being told it had ‘feelings’ like humans had. Sir Tiuri scoffed at the idea but knew better than to fight against them and their beliefs. 

“Arman!” Fantumar called out. Soon, his son rode up to the two knights and got off his horse, rushing to pick the stag up by himself and put it on his back to carry back to his father, Sir Fantumar. 

Arman was short and plump, like his father, and was just as arrogant. He had dark, curly hair and was rather muscular. He picked up the stag and turned to his father, silently hoping for praise for holding a stag by himself at the young age of fifteen.

“You’re seriously entering you son into the trails?” Sir Fantumar asked Sir Tiuri. 

“He is fifteen,” Sir Tiuri replied. “It is time.”

“Arman there’s fifteen next week, can you believe?” Sir Fantumar said as his son began walking back to the two knights. “Strong as an ox. I hear Tiuri’s no stronger than a jackrabbit.”

“Strength isn’t everything, Fantumar,” Sir Tiuri replied. “What my son lacks in power he makes up for with skill and speed.”

Fantumar simply laughed at him and kept laughing for longer than Sir Tiuri would’ve liked. 

The streets of Dagonaut’s capitol were filled with people bustling about. Watching over them was a girl with dark braids, and skin a shade or two darker than the rest. Her braids were done messily and rushed, and her clothes were thin and patched fabrics sewn together by a kind lady. The girl was sat on a crate, biting down on an apple with one leg dangling down and the other knee close to her chest. 

“Are you going to sit there and people-watch forever?” Came a familiar voice to the girl. The boy it belonged to was tall with blonde hair sweeping across his forehead. His clothes, whilst not very extravagant, were in better condition than the girl’s. His skin was also paler than hers. 

“Maybe,” She replied with a shrug. “What are you doing here, Foldo?” 

“Looking for you,” He replied with his arms folded. He was a man-or rather boy-of few words. His simple sentence seemed to be enough for him, but not for her. She raised an eyebrow and took another bite from her apple, savouring its taste. “For training,” He clarified. “The trails! You may be forgetful Diorla, but surely-“

“Ah yes,” The girl smiled, standing up and stretching, before taking another bite of her almost all gone apple. 

“I think you’ve eaten it all,” Foldo told her. She looked at it, slightly disappointed, before throwing it into the streets, following the boy back to his house. As they walked, they noticed the Brown Knights ride in, followed by their squires. Amongst the squires was Arman. Foldo and Diorla knew the boy under less than desirable circumstances. 

Arman noticed them passing and kicked Diorla into the mud with a laugh. “That’s what you get, Eviellen scum!”

His father didn’t say anything, just simply told him to hurry up. A strange boy helped Diorla stand but she shrugged him off, brushing the mud off her shirt, glaring at the back of Arman’s head. 

“Let’s train,” She told Foldo. “I can’t wait to wipe the smile off his face when I win.”

“Side on, Tiuri, Side on!” Young Tiuri panted as he fought with Bors. His clothes were bathed in sweat as he tried to keep a steady grip on the sword and shield, trying to keep a clear focus on his opponent. 

“Deflect the blow!” Bors told him. “Don’t block it!”

Tiuri felt a shield smack his back, sending his stumbling forwards as his opponent kept their ground. Tiuri regained his stance and tried again as Bors kept yelling things at him, which didn’t help all that much. Tiuri looked over at Bors for a split second, and felt a shield hit his chest, sending him to the ground with a thud. Tiuri let out a small breath, silently praying he didn’t have to get up. 

Tiuri looked up, hearing a horse neighing as his stepfather rode in on his horse, back from his hunting trip. 

“Well?” Sir Tiuri asked Bors as he got off his horse. 

“The boy does try, Sire,” Bors replied. “There has been some improvement.”

Sir Tiuri looked at young Tiuri with no emotion, just studying the boy as if he were a problem. Young Tiuri was, unfortunately, used to the look. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to see. “Show me,” Sir Tiuri said. 

Young Tiuri stood up as his father prepared to fight. He looked up to see his mother standing above them, looking down and giving her son a reassuring smile. Sir Tiuri stood in front of young Tiuri, noticing his wife above them. She sent her husband a worried look, silently telling him to go easy on her son. However, Sir Tiuri did anything but. 

Sir Tiuri waited for his adopted son to make the first move, and when nothing happened, he said “Come on boy, we haven’t got all day.”

Young Tiuri huffed through his nose before slashing at Sir Tiuri. The older man quickly stepped back, dodging all the slashes that came his way with ease. The servants stopped their tasks to watch the fight with slight interest as young Tiuri stumbled forwards from his own attack. Sir Tiuri blocked two attacks, before slashing his son. Young Tiuri blocked it with his shield, only for Sir Tiuri to hit his back, sending him stumbling forwards. Block, shield, hit. The young novice stumbled forwards once again, almost falling over as he yelped. He regained his standing and lunged at his father, only for him to hit his hand, sending the novice’s sword to the ground. He quickly picked it back up and faced his father. Slash, slash, block, hit. Only this hit was to young Tiuri’s head, sending him to the ground with a thud. 

His mother rushed down the stairs and held her son, only for him to brush her off and stand up on his own. Young Tiuri and his mother looked at Sir Tiuri with confusion and disdain. 

“The boy has to learn,” Sir Tiuri defended himself. “The world won’t be easy on him either.”

“Father, I’m….” Tiuri began but stopped when Sir Tiuri turned away from him without a second glance. He could hear the distant whispers beginning as his mother looked him over. 

“Tiuri, you’re bleeding!” Tiuri stepped away from her and dabbed below his nose gently before he walked off, throwing his shield to the ground as the whispers began to gradually get louder and more chaotic. The servants who were watching intently began to go back to their business.

Wood hit wood as a boy practiced his sword fighting against a wooden pole. With a grunt he kept attacked, pretending to dodge and working on his footwork like his father had shown him. The boy had dark, slicked back hair and pale skin and clearly was rather new to any knight work. He was distracted slightly when he heard the strum of a lute. He looked over to see a smaller boy playing a lute. Both boys strongly resembled each other. 

“Piak!” The first boy yelled, beginning to chase after the smaller boy, waving his wooden sword menacingly at him. He chased the smaller boy into the streets, yelling at him to give him the lute back. The two swerved through the bustling people. The older boy, Jussipo, lost his younger brother in the crowd and decided to stand on a crate to get a high vantage point. This didn’t entirely work out for him, as the Brown Knights were trotting in from their hunt. Jussipo quickly got down to not draw attention to himself, staring at them in awe, silently imagining himself up on his own horse as a Knight of Dagonaut. 

“That’s what you get, Eviellen scum!”

Jussipo glanced back and saw one of the young squires had kicked a girl into the mud. Jussipo jumped up and helped her stand, only to get shrugged off. 

“Let’s train,” She told another boy. Jussipo glanced up at the other boy and didn’t hear whatever the girl said next. 

Jussipo wrote songs, it was his lute his younger brother stole. He had learnt how to play from his father’s squire, who wrote marvellous songs about his father. Jussipo had also heard songs from different bards, he had heard plenty of love songs and never really understood them. 

Now he at least understood the appeal. 

“If it wasn’t so unethical,” Piak began. Jussipo blinked, realising the girl and boy had left and he had been staring at the back of the blonde boy’s head as he walked off. Piak was leaning against a wall nearby, Jussipo’s lute in his hands, being held as if Piak was about to play something. “I would definitely make fun of you for that.”

“Because you’re a shining beacon of ethics, right?” Jussipo replied sarcastically, snatching his lute back before they headed home. 

Young Tiuri gripped his pillow. He had made quick work of cleaning his room after he left the window open and a strong breeze messed everything up. At least, that was what he told the servants who were passing. 

He had his eyes closed and was facing away from the door, but he still heard his mother walking in and closing the door gently behind her. She placed something down as Tiuri opened his eyes, staring out the window. 

“I can’t do this,” He told her. “I’ll never become a knight.”

“You can,” She reassured him. Tiuri felt the bed dip behind his legs and felt a hand stroke his side gently. “Bors says-“

“Bors wants to keep his job,” Tiuri snapped, sitting up to face her. 

“I know this is difficult for you.”

“No,” Tiuri replied firmly. “I don’t belong here. We don’t belong here.”

“That’s not true,” she told him. 

“Who was he?” Tiuri asked carefully, glancing around the room to avoid his mother’s eyes. “My father? My real father?”

“I told you-“

“You never tell me anything,” Tiuri replied. “You only keep repeating the same story over and over again. I don’t understand!”

“Why do you want to know?”

Tiuri bit the inside of his cheek. Maybe if he knew who his father was, he’d know why he heard the whispers, why the wind and nature in general acted weird around him. It was more than just it has a feeling, like his mother always told him. It was like he could talk to it, control it almost. 

“Because I do,” He replied finally. “Because I have a right to know, maybe?”

“Tiuri,” She began carefully. “Is something going on you’re not telling me?”

“No-“

“Don’t lie to me.”

Tiuri bit the inside of his cheek once again, looking at his lap. “I can’t be his son.”

His mother sighed slightly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You can,” She told him. “If you can do what I know you can, you will succeed at the trials. You will become a knight.”

Prince Viridian carefully rolled up a piece of parchment -a letter- placing it inside its container before sealing it and locking the container. Five letters, all contained in cylinders with fractured images on the side. 

“What we’ve done here,” The prince began, talking to one of his military men who was standing in the tent with him. “It’s just the beginning. The old world grows weak. And the fire we are about to start will destroy everything that remains. Take these letters.” He turned around to the man and motioned to the cylinders on the table. “Choose five of my Red Riders. And crush anyone, or anything, that lies in your way.”

“My lord,” The man said. The man took the letters outside the tent, and it wasn’t long until Prince Viridian heard heavy hooves hitting the ground in gallops, leaving the camp. He just didn’t know that one of the horses didn’t belong to a Red Rider.


	2. Trails of Knighthood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The six young hopefuls test their skills against other hopefuls to become the Novices everyone wants to be.

“Stop following me like a lost puppy!” Jussipo exclaimed as he mounted his horse. Just below him was Piak. His mother and father were waiting by the gate to see him off. Piak was stroking the horse’s mane as Jussipo glared at him. “I don’t need a little kid around if I’m going to be a heroic knight.”

“Just let him, Jussipo,” Their mother cooed. “He’s your brother.”

“He’s a nuisance,” Jussipo muttered under his breath, before sending his horse trotting out his garden and joining the other novices. 

In the front was Jussipo, soaking up the cheers from the crowd as they watched the hopefuls trot down the streets of Dagonaut. Next to him was Foldo, who was looking around with a neutral face, not really caring about the crowd. Behind them was Arman, who was also soaking up the praise like a lot of the hopefuls. Next to Arman was Diorla, who kept her head down, feeling out of place. Every so often she’d notice Arman sending her a glare, or a glare from the crowd, or a glare from the other knights. Behind those two were Tiuri and a girl with pale skin and dark hair pulled into a high ponytail. Tiuri was looking around, taking in the sights of Dagonaut from on top a horse. Arman turned to face him and drew a line across his neck with his finger, the threat clear as day but no one batted an eye. 

“Ignore Arman,” The girl next to him said. “It’s me you should be worryin’ about. I’m Iona, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m-“

“Yeah,” Iona cut him off. “We all know who you are.”

“From the days of the first Kings,” The Queen began, looking over her subjects as they cheered for her. “We have chosen the warriors who will lead us, not by birth, nor by wealth. For this honour cannot be purchased. Only the men and women who emerge victorious from these trials are worthy to call themselves Knights of Dagonaut! Tomorrow, I will open the games in the company of Crowned Prince Iridian, son of Dagonaut’s greatest alley, the King of Unauwen!”

Diorla turned away from the Queen’s welcome speech with a small scoff before dismounting her horse. Foldo simply gave her a warning look as he dismounted. 

“You cannot disrespect the Queen.”

“I’m not,” Diorla replied. “But people with more money are going to get better teachers for their kids, right? So, it’s still a title you can buy.”

Foldo shook his head with a smile, knowing better than to continue their conversation. The rest of the hopefuls arrived and began to cram in some last-minute practicing, Tiuri being a part of the group. Foldo and Diorla began to spar with each other, Diorla occasionally getting distracted by Tiuri. 

“You can talk to him,” Foldo said. “He is only human.”

“He’s a lord’s son,” She replied, blocking one of his attacks with her shield. 

“He’s also Eviellen.” Foldo jumped back to avoid getting slashed. “Like you.”

“He’s probably lost sense of it all.” Diorla managed to disarm Foldo and grinned at him victoriously as he picked his sword back up. “I win, again.”

“I think we should practice with strangers, don’t you?”

“Okay,” She shrugged, moving to pick a fight with someone else. Foldo began to spar with  another  boy, only using his sword, with his other hand behind his back as the stranger wielded a sword and shield. 

“Very pleased to meet you,” Foldo said as he quickly dodged and countered his opponent’s attacks. “My name’s Foldo, and you are?” With another dodge, he slashed the boy. “Whoops-a-daisy.” With a few quick moves, the sword came flying out of the stranger’s hand. “I do apologise.”

“Jussipo’s reaper grows hungry.”

“Okay,” Diorla sighed, preparing to fight the boy in front of him. She dodged and blocked his attacks. 

“Come and feed her!”

He tossed his sword aside and grabbed her shield pushing her to the ground. Diorla let go of her shield and shoved the boy to the ground, pointing her sword at his neck. 

“Don’t focus so much on weird quips,” She advised him, before picking up her shield and walking off. Iona rode her horse around the others as they trained, dangling off one side by her leg. Some of them cheered her on, whilst others didn’t care enough to pay attention. 

“Tiuri,” Bors said, gaining the young Eviellen’s attention. “Attack.”

Tiuri did so and was easily blocked by Bors. By the end Tiuri ended up on the floor once again, only this time he had Arman laughing at him, adding fake applause. 

“Hey!” Diorla yelled at Arman and his friends. “Arman!”

“Look at this,” Arman laughed. “Two Eviellen scum trying their luck. Even defending each other, it’s so adorable!”

“Let’s see how adorable you think I am when I’m a Knight and you’re disowned,” She growled. Foldo looked over at the commotion and quickly left his match. 

“You really think you have a chance?” Arman asked her with a scoff. 

Before Diorla could reply, Foldo put a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back. Arman saw this and just laughed even harder. “What’s this? Someone actually puts up with you?”

Before Diorla could charge at him, Foldo pulled her back forcefully. Whilst he wasn’t strong enough to stop her from breaking free and charging at the git anyway, Diorla knew better than to give in to her anger. 

The following day the hopeful children met in the arena once again. Their air was thick as the crowd cheered for any or all of them. Everyone was eager to see who the next Knights would be. The horses stopped in front of the Royal box that overlooked the arena. Iona glanced around her, almost everyone had brand new armour, shiny swords and noble steeds. Her horse was dingy and didn’t even belong to her. Her armour was cracking and her sword was blunt. However, she refused to let any of it stop her

“Let the games begin!” The Queen announced. The crowd erupted into cheers and Iona felt a pang across her chest as she realised none of it was for her. It was for everyone else. Even Tiuri had someone rooting for him. She had no one.

Arman simply hit his opponents until they fell to the ground, leaving Arman standing victorious. 

Diorla struck her opponent, only for it to be blocked by their shield. She shook it off and blocked one of their attacks with her sword, disarming them. She swung at them but it was blocked. She attacked them with her shield, using her sword to take the ribbon and claiming victory. 

Iona countered and moved swiftly so she could elbow the guy in the head. she blocked two of his attacks before kicking him to the ground. He got back up and tried to attack again, but Iona countered and got a hold of his sword and put the blade against his throat before taking the ribbon, claiming victory. 

Tiuri’s opponent lunged at him, but he managed to get a hold of the blade and threw it to the floor. Bors cheered loudly from the sidelines as Tiuri began to hit his opponent with his shield, only for it to get deflected again and again. He tried to slice at the guy, but Tiuri’s sword got stuck in a post, allowing the other boy to rush to grab his sword. Tiuri let go of the sword and instead hit the guy’s head with his shield, grabbing his ribbon and claiming victory. The audience roared with applause. 

“Is he winning?” His mother asked Sir Tiuri, having no clue about sword fighting. 

“He’s just not losing,” Sir Tiuri replied. “There’s a difference.”

“Riders! Take your positions!”

Jussipo grinned at the crowd, before putting his helmet down and getting ready to charge and stay on his horse during the entire ordeal. A man held a lance against him. Jussipo blocked the lance and struck the man down. In the crowd, his younger brother Piak excitedly told anyone close by that Jussipo was his brother as Jussipo soaked up the cheers. 

Tiuri trotted out on his horse, ignoring the crowd. He put his helmet down and began to head towards the man with a lance aimed at him. Tiuri took a deep breath as the echoes of whispers began to invade his mind. They got louder and louder, forcing him to close his eyes in some kind of attempt to get rid of them. The distraction caused him to take the lance full on, sending him flying off his horse and tumbling to the ground. 

He sat up, coughing the sand and dust out of his lungs. He looked up at the crowd to see his mother and step-father in the front row. His mother gave him a smile whilst his father simply left without even looking at him. 

Arman followed his father inside his manor, feeling rather pleased with himself. Five novices were eliminated and he wasn’t one of them. In fact, he was one of the highest ranked. All the training and work he had put in was paying off. 

His father, Sir Fantumar, didn’t have such a happy expression. 

“Did you see me take down that servant boy during the first round?” Arman asked as they sat down for dinner. Sir Fantumar simply nodded, not looking up from his letters. “I know I’m going to become a Knight, father. Then we can go on hunts together-”

“No,” Sir Fantumar replied quickly. “You only go on hunts with your fellow riders. You can’t be that stupid.”

“Yes,” Arman said, his voice growing quieter. “You’re right. I know that Tiuri and other Eviellen girl won’t make it to be Knights. It’s a miracle they’ve not been cut out already.”

“Arman.”

“Yes father?”

“Be quiet, you’re giving me a headache.”

“Yes father,” Arman muttered, remaining silent for the rest of the meal. 

Tiuri winced as Bors wrapped a bandage around his hand. The door opened and his mother stepped in just as Bors was finishing up. He stood up and left the room, leaving the mother and son alone. 

“You survived,” She said. Tiuri looked up at her with a neutral expression. “I know you hoped to do better. You survived the first day. Five Novices were eliminated and you were not one of them. You can still do this.”

“Is that what your husband thinks?” Tiuri asked, looking down at his lap. His mother was slightly taken aback, but kept her composure. 

“All he wants is for you to succeed.”

“And to protect his precious name.”

“Sir Tiuri is a good man,” His mother replied, sitting next to him. “He saved you. And protected me. While other soldiers were bringing us home from Eviellen in chains, no, he treated us like human beings. He won my love and deserves yours.”

Tiuri kept his head down. He loved his mother with all his heart, but sometimes he hated how she talked. She’d go on long lectures about Eviellen and how they shouldn’t get rid of their past, but then called Dagonaut home. The place was filled with people who hated them because of where they came from. How could it ever be called home? Tiuri’s home was with his mother in the woods or orchard. His home was where he knew he’d never hear those stupid whispers, whether they be the ones from strangers or the ones in his head. 

“It happened again.”

“What?” His mother asked cautiously. 

“The voice, I hear voices that I can’t hear properly. They’re whispers, and they get louder and louder and I can never tell what they’re saying. It’s like they’re using another language. It keeps happening.”

“You have to stop it,” His mother told him. 

“How?” He asked. 

“Focus on something else-”

“It doesn’t work,” Tiuri told her. 

“It must.”

Tiuri sighed silently and turned away from her. She opened up her palm, showing a green amulet with a small piece of leather attached to it, making it a necklace. Tiuri looked over and saw it. “What is that?”

“It was your father’s,” She replied quietly. “He wore it everyday of his life.”

Tiuri took the necklace and held it carefully in his hands, examining it. 

“Maybe it will help you.”

Tiuri looked up at his mother, who looked back at him with a knowing look, before he turned back to the necklace. 

Diorla gripped the reins tightly as she held her lance. Across the arena, another hopeful was doing the same. At the sound of a trumpet, they both began galloping towards each other, their lances and shields aiming for each other. Diorla managed to hit her opponent, sending them flying off their horse and hitting the ground with a definite smack. She stopped and grinned to herself as she got off. 

Looking over, the boy took his helmet off and brushed the dirt and sat up. She walked over and offered her hand to him. He looked at her, then at her face, before waving her hand away. With a scoff, she walked off. What did it matter to her? She’d already won. 

Next up was Tiuri and Tristan. Diorla hadn’t chosen a side and simply stood on the sidelines, watching the joust because there was nothing else to do. 

They both began galloping towards each other, gaining speed as they went. Tiuri aimed and hit Tristan’s shield, sending him tumbling to the ground. Tiuri slowed to a stop and looked around at the crowd. From the floor, Tristan saw Tiuri’s slightly surprised but proud face and hated it. Tiuri got off his horse and walked over to Tristan, offering his help to the boy as he was struggling to get up. 

“Shut up and finish the job,” Tristan told him bitterly. 

“Aren’t you gonna fight?” Tiuiri asked. He wanted to win, but he wanted to win fairly. 

Tristan threw his helmet off and turned to Tiuri as he sat up on his knees. “I’m gonna do exactly what your father paid me to do.”

Tiuri looked to his father. He had some resemblance of a proud look. 

“Don’t tell me you actually thought you could beat me,” Tristan scoffed. “No. The only contest you could win is one where your father pays your opponent to lose.”

“That’s not true,” Tiuri replied, clenching his jaw. Tristan simply laughed, making Tiuri yell his words again, tackling his opponent to the ground. 

Diorla watched as Tiuri beat Tristan with his shield, showing no mercy, only anger. She let out a sigh through her nose as Foldo appeared by her side. 

“It’s not fair,” She said. “I work my butt off, train everyday. His father pays his way into the knighthood. I told you everything comes down to money.”

Before Foldo could reply, Diorla stormed off with a huff. 

Foldo didn’t see her again until they stood, side by side, holding their swords up in front of the Queen as the crowd cheered. Next to Diorla was Iona, then Arman, then Jussipo and finally Tiuri. 

The forest was dark as the sun began to set. All natural light being blocked out by the dense canopy above them. The six young knights had nothing with them, and were being escorted by the Grey Riders to an unknown location for their final test. 

“How could he stand there with us, in front of the Queen?” Arman asked. 

“Has he no shame?” Jussipo asked. 

Tiuri remained silent at the back of the group, hearing all the comments they said as if he was not there at all. 

“He’s never gonna make it as a knight,” Iona said. “All he’ll ever be is a fraud.”

“Should’ve been Tristan standing there,” Foldo agreed. 

“He’s a pratt,” Diorla added. “But at least he would’ve earned his place and not had his father pay his way. At least Tristan has some honour.”

“Do you not think I know that?” Tiuri snapped. The group stopped and turned to him. 

“Then why are you still here?” Iona asked him. “If you had the slightest shred of self-respect, you’d walk away now.”

“Maybe I can’t,” Tiuri replied. “Maybe I’d like to but don’t have a choice. Did that ever occur to you?”

“Lie to yourself all you want,” Arman told him. “We know what you are. And we’ll make sure everyone else knows it too.”

Arman shoved Tiuri’s shoulder. Tiuri shoved Arman back. 

“Hey!” 

Ristridin, one of the Grey Riders, marched over and pushed the two boys apart. “Have you brats no respect? there isn't a man or woman in Dagonaut who wouldn’t give their first-born for a mere chance to be where you are now. And what do you do with that? You bicker and squeal like a pack of underfed piglets.” Arman began to speak, but shut up when Ristridin put his knife to the boy’s face. “One more word and I’ll slice off your britches, and you’ll be the first Novice in history to take the vigil with his backside hanging out. Do you hear me?” Arman nodded quickly as Ristridin put the knife away, turning to Tiuri. “And you. You have more to prove than all of them put together. So at least try and act like a knight.”

The group walked on, Tiuri stood still for a few moments, hearing the distant echoes of whispers. He shook his head and focused on making his dad proud -or as proud as he could be at this point. 

Smoke filled the hut as the fire cackled in the centre. Prince Viridian stood alone, with a figure bruning over the open flames. The room flickered under the flame’s light, casting shadows of the prince and the figure. There was a smell in the air, so thick you could almost taste it. Like leather being tanned over a flame, sweet but nauseating. The prince didn’t seem to notice it. He had smelt it enough times. On the figures chest was a necklace. A green amulet with leather to go around the neck. 

The Prince closed his eyes and took a deep breath, raising his arms up. Wing rushed through the hut. The figure turned to black smoke which raised to the top of the hut, before hitting the Prince in the chest. He did not flinch, but took the black smoke and absorbed it, inhaling deeply. The veins around his mouth became black, almost sticking out of his skin. His eyes sunk into his head and his fingers became wrinkly. His lungs tried to push the smoke out, resulting in him coughing, but it remained there. After a second his body went back to normal, and the man left the hut. With the flick of his wrist, the open flames engulfed the hut. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out. I've had it finished for a while and just sort of forgotten? But I just finished the next chapter so expect that some time soon!


	3. The Knocking at Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final test is interrupted and a quest begins

Diorla stepped inside the church with everyone else. It was dark, the only light being the candles scattered around the room, along with the skulls. There was an altar with six prayer stands surrounding it in an oval shape. A chill ran up Diorla’s spine as Ristridin kept talking.

“A thousand years of Dragonaut Knights rest here,” He told the young Novices. “Tonight.” The door slammed shut behind them. “You will join them. For the next twelve hours the spirits who possess this place, who have driven other men so mad with fear that they’ve drowned themselves in the nearest pit, will test each one of you. No matter what happens, no matter what terrors they visit upon you, you will not talk. You will not move. And you will not, under any circumstances, leave….this….chapel. Failure by any one of you means failure by all of you. Is that understood?”

The group nodded quickly at him, none of them daring to speak. 

“Then you will kneel.”

He grabbed Arman’s arm and shoved him to kneel at one of the prayer stands. The rest of them rushed to them and knelt down silently. 

“In silent contemplation. Make sure that’s how I find you at sunrise tomorrow.”

Rsitridin left the chapel, the door slamming shut behind him, and the six young knights-to-be stayed silent and still. A few hours passed and it remained the same way. Jussipo was beginning to think the whole ‘ghost’ thing wasn’t real and was simply a way to scare them. It made sense, fear starts in the mind so-

_Clank._

He opened one eye to look around, but nothing had changed so he went right back to silent meditation. What did that even mean? What was he supposed to be thinking, or rather contemplating? His own mortality? That seemed rather dark and something he didn’t want to think about. His life had barely begun, there was still so much to do before his end. So many songs, so many adventures. 

Foldo’s thoughts were a lot lighter in topic. To him, he believed they were supposed to contemplate why they were becoming Knights. Foldo was doing this for his late father. Even just the trails made him reminisce on time gone by. How his father would show him the proper etiquette and all the times they spent just riding through the forests. Although, his favourite memory was always when he found a young girl, and how both he and his father helped nurse her back to health. Part of him wished his father could see him now, see how he truly had followed in his father’s footsteps. But, part of him was also glad his father never saw a day where Foldo was hiding something from him.

This test was extremely boring. That was the main thing running through Arman’s head. Why couldn’t it be something exciting? Like horse riding? Or archer? Or another duel? He’d love to duel Tiuri, wipe his head clean from his shoulders, the Eviellen scum. Although, he didn’t seem to have horns or weird marks like his father had said. And, as far as he knew, Tiuri hadn’t eaten any dirt yet. And Diorla seemed pretty smart, but that could just be the Dagonaut blood in her. 

Iona had heard the creaking, and was ignoring it. She had worked too hard and come too far to let something as small as fear get in her way. She knew her goal, and it began with becoming a Knight. Whilst her team wasn’t one she’d have chosen herself, they weren’t half-bad. However, she could tell Tiuri’s morality would be an issue, it seemed rather fixed at present. 

Diorla had her eyes closed tightly and her hands clenched together. If this place was haunted, she did not want to find out. Ghosts and the undead had always freaked her out, ever since her mother had told her that they walk amongst the living. In one way, it was a comfort. Her mum would always be there for her no matter if she was breathing or not. But it was also terrifying in situations like the one she had found herself in. She wanted nothing more than to have her wrap her arms around Diorla’s shoulders and hug her tightly till everything bad went away. But that would never happen again. 

Across the small semi-circle, Tiuri’s eyes were wide open after the mysterious clanking noise. His mother had always told him that their ancestors walked among them, so surely the old Knights must be there with them. But were they friendly? Not every spirit is nice and kind, he knew that. That was when they came back. The indistinct whispering. Part of him wanted to yell out, asking them what they were saying. If he did that he’d fail at being a Knight. They all would. 

He looked up at the stained-glass window in front of him, trying to concentrate on anything else to get the voice out of his head and his heart rate back to normal. He looked around and saw that some other knights were glancing around too. Or maybe they were just looking at the flickering candles. They were flickering madly, like a raging fire. Tiuri blinked, realising he was doing it. He was going to burn them all because he couldn’t be left alone with his thoughts for two minutes. 

His attention was brought back to the stained-glass window as a horse whinnied. A bunch of knights rode across the glass, all wearing red of some kind. They began to fight a knight dressed all in black, except his shield. His shield was pure white. He was finally able to make out something in the unclear fog of voices. 

“Beware Red.”

The whispering got louder and more unclear as he looked down at the skulls. The candles next to them began to freak out uncontrollably, until they just went out. The six of them were pullemeted into darkness and the voices finally went away. 

The knights all looked at each other warily. 

“What was that?” Arman asked quietly. 

“I don’t know,” Foldo replied, just as quietly. 

“Shh!” Iona told them. The six stayed in complete silence, desperate to not mess up. 

“....Can we light them?” Jussipo asked cautiously. 

“No we can’t light them,” Foldo told him. “Ristridin told us not to move.”

“Ristridin told us to _shut up_ ,” Iona added. 

Tiuri looked around guiltily. The others couldn’t see his face in the dark, but he still couldn’t help feeling to blame for everyone’s worry. He’s the one who put out all the candles, even if it was an accident. And it was better than the way he thought things were going to go. 

“I’m lighting one,” Arman said, standing up. 

_Bang_

_Bang_

_Bang_

Arman scurried back to his spot and the group pretended nothing had happened, all with their eyes closed and all silent. 

_Bang_

_Bang_

_Bang_

“Open the door!” Came a muffled voice. None of them were sure what to do. It could be a test, in which case they should all stay where they were. But it could be someone who desperately needed their help, so the right and noble thing to do was to help them. None of the Novices moved, except to look at each other, as the man carried on. “Please! You have to help me!”

_Bang_

_Bang_

_Bang_

“Open the door!”

“What do we do?” Tiuri asked quietly. 

“Could be a test,” Foldo suggested. 

“They could be out there,” Jussipo added. “The Grey Riders.”

“Watching us,” Arman said. “Waiting to see if we break the vigil.”

“Maybe we need to?” Diorla suggested. “Maybe that's the true test? Knights are supposed to be noble and help people.”

_Bang_

_Bang_

_Bang_

“What if he really needs our help?” Tiuri asked. 

“Then he’s come to the wrong place, hasn’t he?” Arman replied. 

“Fail the vigil, and you know what we face,” Iona told them all. They all remained silent after that. None of them wanted to go home to disappointment. Least of all Tiuri. 

_Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bnag! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!_

“My master! He’s dying!”

Tiuri got up and headed to the door, ignoring everyone else's protests until Iona grabbed him by the shoulder aggressively. 

“You want all of us to fail because one man came to the wrong place?” She hissed at him. “You may not have worked hard but the rest of us fought to be here and we’re not letting you ruin our chances at a future worth living.”

“He said his master’s dying,” Tiuri replied. “I can’t sit there, letting someone die knowing I could’ve helped.”

“And what if you can’t?” Diorla asked. “We’re kids, what can we do?”

Tiuri bit his tongue. He knew he could help people, if he was alone. He had promised his mother that no one would find out his secret, and he’d keep that promise until he died, but he refused to let others die when he could help. So, he shrugged off Iona and opened the door. 

“Thank God!” The old man exclaimed. “You have to come with me!” He panted. “He’s dying!”

“That’s his problem, not ours,” Arman said coldly. Diorla glared at him before standing beside Tiuri. 

“How can we help?” She asked the old man. Behind her, Iona scoffed loudly. 

“Of course the two Eviellen’s would betray us.”

“If you wanna say something, say it my face,” Diorla told her, snapping around. Foldo quickly jumped between them. Diorla let out a breath to calm herself before turning back to the old man. 

“He needs help, please,” The old man said. 

“We can’t just leave him,” Tiuri said. 

“We can,” Arman replied, taking out a knife. “And we will.” 

“Put it away, you fool!” Iona told him, grabbing his shoulder. Tiuri turned back to the old man. 

“How far away is he?”

“Close! Very close!” The old man replied. “I’ll show you! I’ll show you!” He scurried away and Tiuri and Diorla turned to the group who all had varying feelings about the situation. 

“Tiuri! Diorla!” Iona called out to them. “Don’t do this!”

“We’ll be quick,” Diorla told them. “I promise.”

They left and Iona sighed loudly. Foldo took a deep breath and began to walk ahead. “Where do you think you’re going?” Iona snapped at him. 

“Diorla’s my best friend,” He replied. “I’m not letting her go alone.”

“She’s with Tiuri,” Arman told him with a look of disgust. 

“I also don’t want to be near you,” He added before leaving. Jussipo quickly ran after him, leaving Iona and Arman alone. Iona gave a huff before going back to her silent contemplation. 

“The Red Riders,” The old man explained to Tiuri and Diorla as they walked through the thick forest. “They caught up to us.” They reached a small clearing with a small fire, where a man was lying by the tree, bleeding out. The old man rushed to the younger man as Diorla and Tiuri walked cautiously towards them. The old man urged them forwards and Tiuri stepped forwards. 

“Seriously?” The younger man asked, looking at the two novices with slight confusion. “This is the help you brought me?”

Tiuri tried to leave to get more help, but the old man’s grip was firm. Diorla looked behind her to see Jussipo and Foldo walking down the hill. “What are you two doing here?” She hissed at them. “We’re so failing the vigil.”

“We came to help,” Jussipo replied. “What’s going on?”

“You must take this letter,” The dying Knight told them. “Take it to King Favian of Unawen. My ring too. As proof that you’re bringing it from me. The future, the entire kingdom depends on it, not just Unawen. Dagonaut too.”

“But we can’t,” Diorla said. 

“By the next full moon it’ll be too late,” The Knight told them. 

“That’s two weeks away!” Jussipo cried. “We can’t get all the way to Unawen in two weeks! It’s impossible!”

“No it’s not,” The old man said. “On Ardenwen.”

The horse nearby whinnied, but Foldo simply sighed. “That’s one horse, there’s four of us.” Diorla took the letter from Tiuri and began putting it in the horse’s bag. 

“We can get help from Dagonaut,” Foldo told them. 

“You don’t understand!” The Knight snapped. “No one can be trusted. Take the letter, get more horses, and go!”

“Why can’t he do it?” Jussipo asked, referring to the old man. 

“What, that old fool?” The Knight asked, scoffing slightly. “He’s even weaker than I am. He wouldn’t make it out of the forest. It has to be you four.”

“Why can’t just one of us go?” Jussipo asked. 

“We’ve all already failed the vigil,” Diorla told them, stepping away from the horse. “We got back now we’re failures. We do this then come back, we could be heroes, legends.”

Before any of them could reply, there were shouts in the distance, followed by the sound of horses. “It’s them,” The Knight said. Spots of fire could be seen, and it didn’t fill any of them with the comfort it probably should have. “The Red Riders.”

“Beware Red.” The whispers began to invade Tiuri’s head again, but this time what they were saying was clear as day. It just kept being repeated over and over again. The voices invaded his mind, stopping him from thinking. He knew if he stayed here something would go horribly wrong and he couldn’t do that to the old man or the Knight, let alone the other novices who were prepared to help him. That Diorla girl would probably be a much better fit than he ever was, anyway. He took off running as everyone called out to him. 

Diorla got on Ardenwen and helped Foldo up. There wasn’t enough room for anyone else on the back, so Jussipo was put in front of Diorla instead.

“I am so sorry Ardenwen,” She muttered, rubbing the horse’s fur. They took off, galloping away as fast as they could, in the direction of Tiuri. They had reached a small path and saw Tiuri just in front of them. Before Jussipo could say anything, Foldo nudged both him and Diorla, showing that they had all been spotted by the Red Riders. One of them called for everyone to get back on the horses. Tiuri rushed up. Dirols got the boys off Ardenwen. “You must hide somewhere. I’ll distract them. Meet back in town, alright?”

“Diorla!” She took off, ignoring Foldo yelling after her. She raced down an uneven path in the darkness, hearing the Red Riders yelling at her. She didn’t know how far or close they were and she didn’t really want to find out. She came out of the forest and found herself heading for a cliff. 

“Stop! Stop! I don’t wanna die!” She cried before Ardenwen leaped off the edge, sending Diorla and himself flying into the river below. 


	4. Back to Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group reunite and head into town to gather supplies and more horses for their long journey ahead. But the Red Riders are hot on their trail, and a new enemy is on the rise.

“Do you think she’s okay?” Foldo asked as he hid in a tree with Tiuri and Jussipo. 

“I think you should stop talking,” Jussipo hissed. The forest was silent for a few moments, bar the normal sounds. Tiuri was the first to get down, he touched the ground carefully, hearing the voice again, but softer now. 

_ “Gone, safe.” _

“You can come down now,” He told the other two. “They’re gone.”

“And how do you know this?” Jussipo asked as Foldo carefully climbed down. Jussipo stayed in the tree. 

“Um...an old Eviellen trick my mother taught me.”

“They couldn’t just wait all night.”

“They’re Red Riders,” Jussipo replied, being the only one talking quietly anymore. “What can’t they do? I heard a rumour they're all ghosts.”

“They’re not ghosts,” Tiuri told him. “That’s just stupid.”

“So, what now?” Foldo asked, looking around as Jussipo cautiously got out of the tree. 

“We find Diorla and do what the Knight said,” Tiuri replied. 

“She has the letter,” Jussipo said. “And we don’t even know where she is.”

Diorla’s eyes fluttered open, the light blinding her. Her arm ached as she pulled it up to shield her from the sun. Everyone was covered in sand and water and part of her wondered if she was dead. Do dead people even feel pain? 

A winnie from a horse broke her thoughts. She turned to see Ardenwen shaking off the water and sand. Diorla pulled herself out of the sludge and staggered over to the horse, checking to see if the letter was okay. She took it out, and began to examine it’s casing. Part of her recognised it, but from where she didn’t know. Dirola began to try to open it, but Ardenwen began to freak out. 

Dirola turned to the forest, putting the letter back in the satchel and jumped on the horse, fully prepared to run. 

“Diorla!” 

She jumped off the horse and rushed to the forest just as three teenage boys staggered out of it. Foldo saw her and rushed to hug her tightly. 

“I thought you were dead,” He said. 

“Same to you,” She replied, letting him go. She turned to Jussipo and Tiuri. “I’m glad you two survived as well. Now c’mon. We have less than a fortnight to get this letter-”

Ardenwen began to snort and kick up a fuss again. Across the river, the Red Riders had emerged. Jussipo swallowed hard as they all saw them. “We can’t all fit on the horse.”

“We’ll run into town,” Tiuri said. “They can’t attack us around civilians.”

“I think you underestimate their brutality,” Jussipo told him. “But it’s better than nothing.” Diorla, Foldo and Tiuri got on, but before Jussipo could climb up, Ardenwen began to gallop off. Jussipo clung onto Foldo and Diorla’s arms as they, along with Tiuri, tried to pull him up to at least stand on the stirrup. 

“Slow down!” Tiuri told the horse. “You’re going to get us killed!”

“I don’t wanna die!” Jussipo cried out, gripping onto the three of them as they began to slip too. “I’m too young and handsome to die!” He kept slipping, grabbing a hold of anything to keep him on the horse. He grabbed the bag, only for it to tear away. Jussipo crashed into a pile of leaves as Ardenwen raced off, Diorla, Foldo and Tiuri all still on. 

Jussipo found the letter in it’s weird container and slid it into his jacket’s inside pocket and rushed up a tree to hide. Once the coast was clear, he made his way to town. 

The three had parted ways, all assigned with getting whatever they considered necessary. Diorla went to steal some horses, and Foldo pretended not to know as he grabbed some food from his parent’s home. They’d be at the market buying some new food anyway. And Tiuri headed to his home too, desperate to see his parents again. 

He opened the door to his father’s bedroom chamber and rushed in, embracing him tightly. “What is it?” His father asked, pure concern coming from his voice. “What happened?”

“The red riders!” Tiuri replied, panting slightly. “They came for the Black Knight. Now, they’re coming for me. But not just me, Diorla, Foldo and Jussipo too!”

“What are you talking about?” He asked. “Why aren’t you at the chapel?”

“I broke the vigil. The Black Knights squire came to the door last night. He said he needed help so the four of us went with him.”

“It’s not possible. The Black Knight is in Eviellen.”

“No, he’s here! The Red Riders killed him. He gave us this letter, saying we had to take it to King Favian. He said the fate of both Kingdoms was at stake. “

The sound of townspeople yelling broke their conversation. Sir Tiuri pulled his son to the window to see The Red Riders had arrived. “You have to hide,” He told his son. As the door was pounded on, Sir Tiuri pulled and pushed his son into a wardrobe. “Don’t come out,” He said, cupping his son’s face. “Whatever happens.” He kissed Tiuri’s forehead and closed the door, turning to see Sir Fantumar walking in. 

“You dare enter my home uninvited?” Sir Tiuri said, glaring at his so-called friend. 

“In search of fugitives, yes I do.”

“What fugitives?” 

“Your son and some other novices who killed the Black Knight.”

Sir Tiuri simply laughed in his face, enjoying the slight revenge a bit too much. “I couldn’t kill the Black Knight! Let alone some puny, untrained children.”

“You will tell me where he is and what he’s done with the letter,” Sir Fantumar demanded. 

“What letter?” Sir Tiuri asked. 

“They stole a letter from the Black Knight.”

“My son has never stolen anything in his life,” Sir Tiuri replied, before stepping forwards, towering over Sir Fantumar. “And what concern of yours is a letter of the Black Knight?”

“I’m not here to answer your questions,” He replied. 

“I don’t care what you’re here for. And I will not have you drawing me or my family into whatever dark games you and your friends are playing.”

“You dare accuse me!?”

“Until I know this letter is, who it is from, and what Viridian’s Red Riders are doing in Dagonaut, then yes, yes I do!”

Sir Fantumar’s eyes widened as he began to look around the room. “You spoke to him. I knew it! Where is he? Where’s Tiuri?”

“Leave, Fantumar,” Sir Tiuri threatened gently. “I won’t tell you again.”

Fantumar pulled out his sword, pointing it at Sir Tiuri’s throat as his son watched on, staying silent and hidden in the wardrobe. “How many times did I tell you!?” Sir Fantumar hissed. “You can clothe them in the finest silk, you can teach them the finest manners, but you’ll never wipe away the stench of the Eviellen scum they will always be!”

He lunged at Sir Tiuri, who quickly moved his head out of the way and side stepped. He tried again, slashing this time, but Sir Tiuri jumped away again unscathed. Sir Fantumar brought the sword above his head, only for Sir Tiuri to block him at the wrist and slam him into the wardrobe, wrestling him to the ground until he ripped the sword out of Sir Fantumar’s hand and sent it across the room. 

“Take him!” Sir Fantumar yelled as two other knights came up the stairs and grabbed Sir Tiuri, holding a sword to his neck. Sir Fantumar motioned at one of the knights to give him the sword and pointed it at Sir Tiuri, who was now on his knees with his hands up. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve looked down at me. Well now….it’s my turn.” 

Tiuri covered his mouth as his father yelled and groaned, the sound of steel slashing through his body made Tiuri want to cover his eyes and ears and shrink into a hole but at the same time run and attack Sir Fantumar and the others, hurting them all. He barely heard his father hitting the wooden floor over the whispers that began to pound around in his head again. This time, however, he didn’t much mind them hurting the people around him. 

“Don’t let your anger take over.” 

There was one voice that was clear. It was deep, but familiar. Like Tiuri had met the person before. The voice kept repeating it, intertwined with all the other voices but being the only one he could understand. Something in him listened intently to it’s calming nature, as if his mother was the one talking to him. 

“Burn it,” Sir Fantumar said. “Burn it to the ground.”

The door closed with a thud, and Tiuri slowly left the wardrobe before rushing to his father’s side as he groaned quietly. “You must not get involved in this,” Sir Tiuri told him, stroking the side of his son’s face. “Leave the letter. Save yourself. I want you to live, Tiuri. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” His hand fell to the ground as Tiuri sat, cradling his father’s head as he silently wept. 

The townspeople outside clamoured around. Tiuri got up to see what the chaos outside was and saw two knights with lit torches marching over to his house and another pulled his mother out in chains. His mother looked up and saw him. Sir Fantumar saw the woman’s gaze, but before he could be spotted, Tiuri leapt down to hide below the window. 

Meanwhile, Foldo and Diorla had met up again, hearing the raging fire from Tiuri’s estate sparked panic in them as they raced to the outskirts of town. Diorla had only managed to grab two horses whilst Foldo grabbed a bag full of food. “D’you think….?” Diorla asked from atop one of the horses, looking over at the smoke in the sky. Ardenwen let out a soft snort from beside them. 

“No,” Foldo replied firmly. “He got out. He had to.”

“There you are!” Jussipo yelled. He rushed over to them, carrying a bag and a lute. “I thought I lost you. Where’s Tiuri?”

Foldo looked over at the smoke in the sky with a grave expression. “I don't think he had the letter,” Foldo said. 

“I do,” Jussipo said, taking it out of his jacket pocket. Diorla glared at his lute. 

“Why did you bring that? We have to travel light.”

“How else are people going to hear of our harrowing adventures?” Jussipo asked. 

Before Diorla could reply, the sound of hooves hitting the cobblestone made them all jump. Jussipo quickly pulled himself onto Ardenwen and the three of them began to ride off into the forest. “He’ll find us,” Diorla told them as they galloped off, possibly leaving Tiuri behind. 

“We split up a lot,” Foldo said. 

“I don’t have it!” Tiuri cried out as he was held up by his ankle and shaken. His pockets were already empty but the Red Riders didn’t seem to believe him. The head of the Red Riders nodded to the one holding Tiuri up. Tiuri hit the ground with a groan, blinking rapidly to stay awake. If there was one thing he got from Jussipo’s rumours, it was to be careful around them. 

The leader grabbed Tiuri’s shirt and pulled him up. “One of your little friends will have it. And until then, you’ll be staying with us for a little while.” Tiuri struggled against his rope restraints as he glared at the man who seemed to take too much enjoyment from kidnapping and threatening kids. 

In the distance, the sound of a horse was heard charging. Ardenwen stormed into the camp, getting the leader to leave Tiuri alone so he could shoot the horse. Tiuri kept struggling, his sweat making his wrist slippy so he could slip out of his restraints. Tiuri called out for the horse before quickly getting on as the Red Rider’s horses broke free due to the chaos Ardenwen was causing. 

“You’re definitely crazy,” Tiuri said affectionately. “Do you know where the others are?”

Ardenwen snorted out a response and galloped into the forest. Soon they found a clearing where Diorla and Foldo were sat on logs and Jussipo was playing his lute to the two other horses. Diorla snapped a twig in her hand as she glared at a rock and Foldo patted her back. Ardenwen snorted to get their attention. Tiuri got off the horse as the three others rushed to greet him. 

“Can we all promise not to split up again?” Tiuri asked. 

“Deal,” They all replied. 

“What did you bring back from your place?” Diorla asked, grabbing Tiuri’s arm and giving him a hopeful look. A flash of pain went across Tiuri’s face as he remembered the flames and the groans from his father. 

“I….I went to get some help from my father….” Diorla let go of him and gave him a sympathetic look as he carried on. “...He killed him….He’s dead and my mother…..”

“I’m so sorry,” She said, pulling him into a hug. Foldo and Jussipo glanced at each other before backing away slightly, neither really comfortable. Diorla rubbed Tiuri back sympathetically. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent. It sucks majorly. So now we do your father and your mother justice by getting the letter to King Favian.”

“Who has the letter?” Tiuri sniffed as him and Diorla let each other go and turned to the group. Jussipo took it out of his jacket pocket and gave them a small smile. 

“It’s safe, don’t worry.” 

“Your lute won’t be if you keep playing it,” Diorla muttered with a small smile. Jussipo and Tiuri let out soft laughs but Foldo shook his head.

“She means it, she hates lutes.”

Jussipo glanced at Diorla then at the lute in his hands before clutching it tightly. 

“We should probably get going,” Tiuri said. His eyes had dried but they were still red and puffy. “We can get a headstart while the Red Riders find and round up their horses.”

Everyone began grabbing their horses, but Jussipo was left on the ground. “What am I gonna do?”

“You are not riding with me,” Diorla told him. Jussipo turned to Tiuri who patted Ardenwen and shared a glance with Diorla. 

“I think we’ve put Ardenwen through enough, don’t you?”

“Come on,” Foldo said, walking his horse to stand in front of Jussipo. “You can ride with me.”

Jussipo got on Foldo’s horse and sat behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and trying -and failing- to hide his blushing face. Why couldn’t Diorla or Tiuri let him ride with them?

Arman and Iona sat in front of Arman’s father, Sir. Fantumar. Arman wanted to put his head down, unable to bear the disappointment and shame his father felt for him, whilst Iona kept her head high, not caring who she offended by doing so. She had lost everything and more when they broke the vigil and never came back. They both had. 

Arman and Iona were told by Sir. Fantumar about the group's crimes. Stealing an important letter and murdering a famous knight. Arman never questioned his father, his father was always right, after all. He remembered things much better than Arman, but still. Even if all four of them fought him at the same time, how could they best and kill a famous and expertly trained Knight? It didn’t make sense to Arman.

“You want us to find Tiuri, Diorla, Foldo and Jussipo?” Iona asked Sir. Fantumar. 

“And bring them back to Dagonaut,” He replied. 

“Dead….” The other guard in the room said. “Or alive.” Arman swallowed hard. Sure, Tiuri and Diorla were Eviellen scum, but they didn’t deserve to die, right? And Sure, they, along with Foldo and Jussipo, broke the vigil and cost him everything. But he didn’t want them dead. Embarrassed and punished, sure. But not dead. 

“He doesn't mean that literally,” Sir. Fantumar told them. Arman let out a silent breath at his father’s words. “Although…. _ dead _ …..would be preferable.”

“That…..” Arman spoke up. Iona never really listened to Arman speaking, it was usually something unimportant or stupid, but it was always said with confidence. Now, his voice was quiet and shallow. “That doesn't seem right.”

“What do you owe those brats?” Fantumar spat at his son, before speaking to Arman and Iona. “They betrayed you both.”

“What’s in it for us?” Iona asked. 

“Bring those murdering fugitives to justice,” Fantumar began. “And I guarantee you will receive the knighthoods that were so wrongly taken from you.”

“You can make that happen?” Iona asked cautiously. It wouldn’t be the first time an old guy had lied to her, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Still, Sir. Fantumar nodded. “Why should we believe you?” She asked, before clearing her throat and rephrasing her question. “Why should  _ I  _ believe you?”

“Look at me,” He began. “Do you know how many wars I’ve fought? Do you know how many tournaments I’ve won? None! And yet I stand before you the richest, most powerful knight in Dagonaut. You know why? Politics. That’s my weapon. I provoke. I tease. I trap.”

“And you lie too,” Arman said,fully invested in his father’s words. He had heard his father’s stories, about how he gained his wealth, and he loved every minute of them. “He’s amazing at lying! Mother and I can never-”

The other knight shoved a piece of cloth in Arman’s mouth. His eyes went wide for a moment, seeing the look of disgust on his father’s face, so he kept his head down. Iona glanced between the knight, Sir. Fantumar and Arman, but didn’t say anything. 

“The point is…” Sir. Fantumar continued. “In the end….I always get what I want.” He stopped closer to the pair, leaning forwards almost threateningly. “You will too…. _ if _ you bring me…...the traitors.”

The four of them had lost track of how long they had been riding for, but they knew it was a long time. The sun was setting, casting it’s light and bright orange and pink hues through the trees. The horses had slowed to a walk and were clearly getting tired, as were the people riding them. Honestly, Diorla was surprised that Ardenwen was still going. 

“We should stop,” She said, from the front of the group. She stopped her horse, a pure white one which looked like it had barely become an adult and wasn’t exactly sure how to work it’s body yet. Diorla turned to see that Foldo and Tiuri had also stopped, and Jussipo was poking his head out from behind Foldo. 

“We should,” Foldo agreed. The horse him and Jussipo were sharing was a creamy colour with a long black main. 

“What about the Red Riders?” Tiuri asked from atop Ardenwen. 

“They’ll get us a lot easier if we never rest,” Diorla told him as she dismounted. “And if it makes you feel any safer, you can take first watch.”

Tiuri grumbled an agreement as Jussipo and Foldo dismounted. Diorla walked over to him with her arms folded and an eyebrow raised. 

“They’re not gonna find us,” She reassured him. “We’re in the middle of a thick forest that's miles wide. It’s like finding a needle in a haystack.” Tiuri got off Ardenwen and looked her in the eye. She rolled her eyes with a huff. “We both know how hard it is to find one Eviellen in a forest, let alone two.” 

As she walked off, Tiuri watched her and called after her; “This is still incredibly dangerous!”

“Just take first watch and stop whining!” She called back. 

Foldo and Jussipo were tieing up the horses to a nearby tree and shared a glance before bursting into quiet laughter. “They’re already acting like an old couple,” Jussipo giggled. 

“That could just be Diorla’s charm,” Foldo replied with a grin. “She’s been my best friend for years and she’s always like this.”

Jussipo breathed slightly easier after Foldo’s words, and smiled to himself as he went to help start a fire. 

The night quickly came and Tiuri stood, alert, as the three teens around him slept almost soundlessly. Jussipo snored quietly and, even though it wasn’t enough to wake any nearby animals, it put Tiuri on edge. Ever sound he heard was a threat, every breeze in the trees, every fox that scurried past. All of it was Red Riders in his mind. And with those imaginary threats, came the voices. 

He couldn’t decipher them, and they all sounded far away. It was like they were in another world, or there was a barrier keeping them out, or him in. Part of him wanted to know what they said, but another part was afraid of them, afraid of what they meant. Every time he had heard about magic or hearing voices, it was almost always negative. Like it was something to fear, something unknown but at the same time so natural. 

He couldn’t let them get the best of him here. He wouldn’t. He had to protect his friends, keep them safe and keep the letter safe, whatever it contained. In an attempt to keep the whispers at bay, he took out the letter and looked at it. 

There were words he couldn't read, but felt like he had heard somewhere before. The container looked like a sort of puzzle lock, where the different parts had to line up to open it. A bush rustled in the distance, making Tiuri’s head shoot up, but found nothing in the darkness. Instead, he turned back to the letter and tried to turn one of the parts, only for a sharp blade to come out, cutting his finger. It was a shallow cut, barely deep enough to draw blood. He put the blade back and put his finger in his mouth to stop the bleed as he put the letter back, before going back to watch, the voices gone, or at least quietened. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I've been swamped with school work and helping my brother with his work too. I'll try to get these out more regularly and thank you to everyone who has commented on a chapter so far, it means so much to me and I hope everyone who reads this is safe and looking after themselves and everyone else!


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